


Help Save The Youth of Insomnia From Exploding

by TheOtherPrompto



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bromance, Epic Bromance, Established Relationship, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-12-31 19:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12139926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOtherPrompto/pseuds/TheOtherPrompto
Summary: "It’s not like we have anything better to do. Save a nation, save a world, see the chosen king to his true calling as a demigod of ancient magic. Or something."A series of in-between moments set mainly during the sidequests of chapter 8, in which things become clearer, friendships grow deeper, and nobody actually saves the world.  Focused on Prompto and Noct's unique friendship, and told from Prompto's POV.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whenever I play FFXV, I spend an incredible amount of time hanging around in Chapter 8 and doing sidequests for days on end. This was originally a series of what seemed to be stand-alone vignettes set during that period of the game, but after a while they started to fit together in a fairly linear way, so I'm going to post them as chapters of one story rather than as individual pieces. 
> 
> This is the first piece of fanfic I've posted in years. Both kindness and constructive criticism are very much appreciated!

_“’Sit down’ - remind me how_

_This is the same old story_

_of growing up and getting lost…”_

Less Than Jake

 

            It’s not like we have anything better to do. Save a nation, save a world, see the chosen king to his true calling as a demigod of ancient magic. Or something.

            Instead we are running around in some field west of Lestallum, trying to climb up these giant pylons. We’re supposed to be looking for the ones with the ladders, then going up to the top to check on some shit that none of us really understands for Holly. She’s this really nice lady from the power plant, some friend of Cindy’s, and I’m pretty sure that Gladio is gonna hook up with her before we’re all done messing around here. He’s got a thing for girls with guts and good work ethics, and Holly’s her own kind of superhero. Right now she’s back at the power plant, sorting out company politics and soothing over sore spots in the union while the potential King of Light kicks his way through another scrub of bushes and gives the latest pylon the same disgusted look that he usually gives beans.

            “Damn. Do _any_ of these things have ladders on them?”

            This is our day, today. Tomorrow it will be more of the same, if Holly’s got another project for us, and after that there will be some other important thing to do – Dave will need us to hunt down a tag, or Sania will want some other weird frog, or Noct will bang the Regalia into a post and we’ll have to drive all the way to Hammerhead to fix it. Then Galden Quay will be too close not to visit one more time; Noct will remember some random fish that Nayveth told him about, and Iggy will find some wacky pepper that they maybe won’t have in Altissia, and we’ll run all over the place looking for them while the world falls apart.

            Because we don’t know how to do this. We were on the beach in Galden the night that Insomnia fell, checking out all the stars that we could never see from the city and making up bullshit names for constellations and trying to impress a couple of girls that walked by. We slept in fluffy resort beds with 1,000 thread count sheets while everything we’d ever known or loved burned to the ground, and the parents who I never got to say goodbye to probably died, and the father Noct could have said goodbye to and didn’t definitely sacrificed himself and who knows how many other people so that the only hope any of us have left could escape.

            “What, you think Holly warps up to the top?” Gladio asks that hope with a snort, scanning the tram lines off into the distance. “Some of them _gotta_ have ladders – and they’ll be attached to the pylons we need to check. That woman works too hard to be wasting her time hauling them back and forth every time something needs to be fixed.”

            Noct rolls his eyes halfway into the next dimension. I can tell that he’s tired – he’s a little off on his bad knee today, and bitching more than usual about the heat. “Jeeze. Just make out with Holly already.”

             Gladio smirks. “Might. What, you jealous?”

            “Dude, she’s like twice my age.”

            Another smirk. “Not my problem that you can’t handle real women.”

            Noct sits down in the shade of our current pylon. “Whatever. All I want to handle right now is a bath.”

            I wonder what else he would have brought with us, if he knew it would all be gone now. He packed up his stuff to ship back to the Citadel so carefully that it hurt to watch, because Noct is never really careful with anything. It’s like suddenly it all mattered, because suddenly it was all staying, and he was going, and when he got back everything would be different. Like he could pack up life as he knew it into those boxes and keep it safe, maybe forever if he had to, a time capsule of who he was before he had to become something _for_ everyone else. I wonder if he’s thinking about the contents of those boxes when he’s staring out the window with his chin in his palm – all the things that meant something to him because people never got close enough to mean much. Except us.

            We love him. He knows that. We can tease him all day and it won’t change a thing. Iggy grew up beside him, a hand-picked companion groomed from the age of six to be everything he needs in an advisor. You can tell exactly what Noct sucks at by what Iggy is best at – cooking, details, and genuinely believing in Noct are three of the big ones, but there’s a lot of other stuff that Ig handles as well. Gladio’s family has protected the kings of Lucius for a thousand years; he was born to be Noct’s shield, so him being a giant is a pretty lucky twist of both fate and probably genetics at this point. He taught Noct how to fight, how to lose, how to warp strike even though he’s got no clue what it’s like – the Amicitas have been peeling kings off of training room floors since the days of the Old Wall, and they know a few tricks, as he loves to remind us.

            And then there’s me. I’m the only one here who could have stayed home and died with all the other normal people. Nobody made me come on this trip – Noct asked me, because we’ve been best friends ever since either of us learned how to make a friend of our own. We still both suck at that, because we haven’t really made any more; all our other friends are standing in this field with us, arguing about ladders.

            Iggy is poring over the map that Holly drew for us, squinting despite the perfect vision his glasses give him. “According to the points marked here, we should be right on the proverbial money. However, Holly’s under quite a bit of stress. Best look around the area a bit more.”

             And so we drag our asses onward, following the lines and wiping sweat out of our eyes and trying not to think too hard about what we’re doing, because if we do, the weight of it is going to crush us before we can muster up the guts to try.

            We all talk about the Royal Arms like anyone has a clue where they are. Like we are absolutely going to find them all, just as soon as we do this one other thing that we can all justify as important. Holly really does need help. The families of those lost hunters deserve to have those tags back. Sania may change the world with her frogs, and every big bad bounty we take down for a tipster is one more local family safe for the night. If this were all there were to it then we could do it forever. We’re getting really good at jobs that aren’t ours.

            One time I asked Noct how old his dad was. We were teenagers then, but King Regis already wore a leg brace and looked way older than everyone else's parents. We were over at his apartment, burning the shit out of something that was supposed to be food, and he shrugged like it didn’t matter and said, “Pretty young, I think. Like maybe forty-something. It’s the crystal that’s making him age so fast.”

            “Wait. The crystal does _what,_ now?”

            “Uses up his life force. That’s how he keeps the wall up.” Noct dumped the pan in the sink, charred noodles and all. “It’s gonna happen to me too, someday,” he said, matter-of-factly. “So don’t count on me as your wing man for too long. If you haven’t hooked a girl by 30, you’re on your own.”

            And that’s how I found out that my best friend is fated to die young, with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the fate of millions in his hands alone. He gets to be who he is for just so many years, and then he’s got to put on the ring and give up his life to protect his people, too slowly to be painless and too quickly to be fair.

            “Fuck, Noct.” What could I say, really? “You’re gonna be a silver fox with an awesome beard, and I’m gonna look like your little sister.”

            “You already look like my little sister.” But he was smiling, and when I hit him with a dish towel he hit me back, and we never really talked about it again.

            Now there’s no other king, and it’s _too soon_ , and I’ll run around in this stupid field with him for the next sixty years if it means he’s not dying every day for people I don’t love half as much. I’m just a stupid peasant and no one can make me care about politics if I don’t want to. I want my best friend to live and be happy. I want people to meet him and love him because he is Noct – not a king or a savior or a demi-god, but the kind of guy who will help Holly out because he genuinely wants to, despite how much he’s bitching about it now. He’d be kind enough to do this even if it wasn’t prolonging this weird in-between life that is becoming more normal to all of us by the day.

            One of the tram cars is hanging near the pylon just over the hill we’re climbing. “You think maybe the cars stop by the ones with ladders when there’s trouble with the lines?” I wonder aloud. “You know, so people don’t get stuck up there?”

            “Would make sense. Let’s check it out.” Gladio has more stamina than all of us put together, but he’s keeping to Noct’s pace today. I’m not the only one who noticed his knee; every one of us notices everything about him, these days. Whether he’s cold. Whether he’s tired. The little sucking noise he makes with his teeth when he’s thinking or frustrated, and the way he cracks his knuckles behind his head when he’s bored, and the glaze in his eyes when he’s used too much magic. Whether or not this is already killing him. Whether or not someone nearby will try to. We’re all he has right now.

            “Wow. Is it evening already?” That’s something else that’s weird right now. First it was the earthquakes and Noct’s freaky headaches; now it’s the actual sun that’s screwed up somehow, and everyone notices, and nobody really wants to know why.

            “Time flies when you’re having fun!” Is this fun? This is weirdly kind of fun. This is something we never thought we’d do; four city kids, beating around the countryside in the coolest car ever,  starting to know all the back roads by heart. We’re at home in Lestallum and Longwythe and Hammerhead. We’ve all got our favorite pit stops – Iggy loves the food up near Vesperpool, Gladio loves the girls in Galden Quay, and I’ll take any chance I can get to go see the chocobos at Wiz’s. Noct is happy anywhere there’s a fishing pier, or somewhere for Iggy to make his favorite sandwich. He’s even happy out here, stumbling through bushes and getting attacked by bugs. This is the most freedom he’s ever had, and in a way, he’s adjusted to it better than any of us.

            “Ladder! Ladder-ladder-ladder!” I’m the first one to spot it, and Noct draws up beside me on the crest of the hill, slapping me on the shoulder with his gloved hand and panting for breath.

            “Nice, man.” Like I put it there or something.

            “So who’s climbing it?” asks Gladio.

            “As pragmatic as it would be to all take turns, I think it’s best if one of us checks all three control panels. At least we’ll be able to check for continuity, if nothing else.” If there’s ever a time that Iggy doesn’t have a good point, I’m going straight to Vyv with the scoop of the century.

            “I’ll do it.” Noct straightens up, cracks his neck with a quick twitch of his head. Girls go nuts when he does that, and he never seems to notice. “I can warp if I fuck up and fall.”

            “Pace yourself.” Iggy passes Noct our last full canteen, cap off, right into his hand. “It’s a long climb, and a hot day.” I never knew Iggy when he was younger, but I know that he slept in Noct’s room for months while he was recovering as a kid, learned to cook all his mother's recipes, has never left his side in the past 17 years. Not quite a parent and not quite a brother, but still a friend through and through. It’s hard to remember that he’s only 23.

            “Got it.” Noct tips his head back for a drink, passes the canteen to me before he starts up. “If I shout, that means come up because I don’t know what I’m doing.” And he’s off.

            “What the fuck are we doing out here?” Gladio asks once he’s out of earshot.

            “A very good deed,” says Ignis, but there’s something sad in his voice.

            “You know what I mean.”

            “And you know why we’re out here.”

            “Guys, c’mon.” I’m tired too, and I hate bickering. “We all know, okay? We’re all doing the best we can with this.”

            Gladio sighs. “This is bullshit.” His voice is dull, softer than it should be. “They should have told us. We could have been ready. We could have had _him_ ready.”

            “You know he wouldn’t have left.” I don’t want to have to say it. It’s the truth none of us want to face – that all of this is borrowed time in the first place.

            “The hell he wouldn’t have left. I can throw him across the room with one arm. He goes where I godamn put him.” This is love, Gladio-style, fierce and stubborn and hard as steel when it comes to the kid he once called Brat and meant it. Now he’s dropping down in the grass, out of steam. “Look, all I’m saying is that my dad could have warned me. I could have done better than some shitty newspaper article. I would have known what to say. I’d know what to say now.”

            If I started crying now for everything we’ve lost, I could probably go for the rest of at least Noct’s life. Instead I sit down beside Gladio and bump my shoulder into his.

            “You kinda just said it all right there, big guy,” I point out. “And anyway, you know that Noct’s not real big on words. We’re here with him, right?”

            “Always.” Gladio’s throat is tight, but I pretend not to notice.

            “Couldn’t get rid of us if he tried,” Iggy agrees.

            “And that’s awesome, you know? That’s more than some people get in their whole lives, even if they live to be a hundred. Three people on your side, no matter what. He may not get what everyone else has, but he’s got us. No matter what happens next, he’s got us.”

            “What the hell, Prompto. Don’t get sappy on me until after dark.” Gladio blinks furiously and clears his throat, but some of the weight in his voice has lifted. Mission accomplished. I grin, and bat my eyelashes at him to keep my own eyes dry and clear.

            “Aww. I bet you say that to all the cute boys.”

            And as Gladio pushes me over into the grass, Noctis appears in a crackle of blue energy, shoulder-rolling his way into our midst like a cannonball. “Whoops,” he says calmly. “Fucked up. But the control thing’s okay, I think.”

            He never asks what we’ve been talking about. We spend hours finding the rest of the pylons, until we’re out of water and have fought about sixty things we didn’t mean to and all just want to go inside and not smell so funky anymore. The drive back to Lestallum is quiet and peaceful in the growing dusk; Noct naps against the door of the Regalia, groans when we park it, yawns all the way up to the power plant and lets Gladio do all the talking with Holly. He’s done, but it’s a good kind of done. We sit against a wall while Gladio flirts and Iggy avoids the eyes Holly’s trying to give him, and Noct tips his head against my shoulder with a sigh.

            “I get window side tonight,” he announces. We’ve all been sharing one room at the Leville, which means sharing beds, but nobody seems to want more space. I try to seal this moment away forever in my memory – but just like those boxes he packed before we left, there’s no guarantee I’ll get to keep it. I just get to tip my head against his, and be here with him on this too hot night in Lestallum.

            “No way. I’m not sleeping by the wall. You kick.”

            “So kick back.”

            I kick his boot, and he slips against me, doesn’t bother to right himself. “We’re all gonna be too tired to care where we sleep by the time Gladio finishes chatting up Holly.”

            “She doesn’t even care.” Noct yawns, and raises his voice a little. “Gladio, she doesn’t care.”

            I clap a hand over my mouth to smother a snort of laughter, and Gladio shoots us both a death stare while Iggy drops his face into his palm. And it’s all as okay as it can be, I guess. He’s king-in-waiting now, and we’re all still us. Iggy will advise him, Gladio will defend him, and I’ll make dad jokes about him, because he’s my friend and I can. Luna’s going to love all of us, and maybe we’ll all live through this somehow. The least we can do is give it a shot.

            Maybe we’ll save the world tomorrow, or something.


	2. Chapter 2

            Three days later we still haven’t saved the world, but Gladio’s making some pretty good progress with Holly. It took her a minute to realize that she’s not really Iggy’s type, and maybe to realize that Gladio’s way more than great pecs and a killer voice. They’re going out for drinks tonight, and even though I’m jealous, I’m also weirdly excited for him.

            “I can’t believe you pulled this off, man.” We’ve got two rooms tonight, but I’m lying on a bed in the one he shares with Iggy, watching the ceiling fan spin as he gets ready to go. “Where are you two going, anyway?”

            “Just down to the little bar by the main drag. I should be back pretty early – she’s pulling overtime up at the plant, and she needs her rest.”

            “Ever the gentleman.” Iggy sounds dubious at best about this plan; girls tend to make crazy decisions around Gladio, for better or for worse. Something about how hard he doesn’t try. The day I learn the trick to his brand of suave, Cindy had better brace herself.

            “Hey, man – I got no intention of breaking her heart. We’re not sticking around here much longer.” Gladio shrugs his way into his cool leather jacket despite the heat and gives himself a once-over in the mirror. “This is just drinks with a nice girl. You guys should stop down and say hi, if Princess Charming doesn’t sleep through until morning.”

            Noct’s been asleep ever since we got back to the hotel this afternoon. We hunted down a pack of coeurls this morning – they’re beautiful, but they’re mean, and _fast_ , and they’ll zap the shit out of you if you aren’t careful. We could only do so much with conventional weapons, and it took a hell of a lot of magic on Noct’s part to get the job done. Everyone needed a nap this afternoon, but he’s sleeping off something bigger than the rest of us have to carry.

            “He’ll have to get up and eat, at the very least.” Iggy’s priorities never change, but he’s right. We should all eat sooner than later.

            I drag myself off of Gladio’s bed, stretching in the heat. “I’ll go get him up. Gimme an hour or two, and say hi to Holly for me.”

            Our room is right across the hall, but I still locked the door behind me when I left. You never know who wants to fuck with Noct nowadays. I turn the key quietly, slip through the door on tiptoe as though I’m not about to disturb him anyway. The shades are down, and Noct is a still, quiet shadow on the far bed.

            I was kidding on the level about that hour or two. Waking him up is a process on the best of days, now. It usually starts with Iggy, who’s always up with the dawn and banging around somewhere nearby, getting the fire started or folding laundry from the night before even though he doesn’t have to, making just enough noise to cut into everyone’s sleep and not enough to jar us. Then it’s Gladio, used to being up early for training, shaking him by the shoulder a little more gently than he used to, calling him Princess until he rolls over and hides from it. We take it slower, all those crackling blue ghosts he leaves behind after warp strikes burned into our minds. He’ll find some angle where the light doesn’t hit his eyes, and we’ll leave him alone for a minute.

            Then it’s me, ruffling his hair, sitting him up before he wants to sit and saying cheerful, annoying stuff until he blinks his way back to us. Once his eyes are open, we can usually count on him not curling back up when we aren’t looking, and we let him drag his ass out of bed or the tent at his own pace from there. With the way the sun’s been, there’s no point in rushing him.

            I sit down beside him on the bed, rub his arm through the light blanket he’s buried himself under. “Hey, buddy. Rise and shine, you got a dinner date.”

            Nothing. I’m not surprised. He’s curled up on his side today, which always makes him look less dead than when he stretches out on his back, one hand curled beside his face on the pillow. Part of me is tempted to leave him alone, let him rest, but Iggy doesn’t cook the way he does just for fun. We all need our strength out here, and who knows how all this weird magic in him works, what his body goes through when he whips his sword forty feet ahead of himself and is suddenly _nowhere_ for a split second.

            “Eos to Noct, come in Noct.” I push his hair out of his face and ruffle my fingers through it, partly because I can get it to stick out at insane angles in the morning, but more because he likes it. “C’mon, man – we gotta feed you, or Iggy’s gonna be waking you up in the middle of the night with Cup Noodles.”

            Noct shifts a little, sucks in a breath through his teeth and lets it out in a sigh. It’s progress, and I pet him more, encouraged. “You know he’ll do it, too. The cart is right down the street. And you know that Cup Noodle smell, man – it lingers.” He’s more awake than asleep now – something starts to relax in his face as he comes around, the opposite of most people, like it’s a relief to be getting away from his dreams. “Kinda makes you wonder whats in them to make them so, you know, strong, and… Cup Noodle-y.”

            There we go. Noct is groaning a little, rolling over on his back but not batting at my hand like usual. Sometimes it’s easier when it’s just me, though I’d never tell the guys that. “Knew that would get you. Everyone hates second-day noodle smell.”

            “Gets in your hair,” Noct murmurs, words half-blurring into a yawn as he draws an arm up and over his eyes.

            “Girls hate it.” He’s talking. I win. I flop down beside him for a minute, stare up at this ceiling fan. It’s a little different from the one in Iggy and Gladio’s room, and I wonder why.

            “What time is it, anyway?” It’s hard to tell these days; we’re always waking up in the dark, a little off, edgy in a way that only nature being all fucked up can make you.

  
            “Just about time for Gladio’s date with Holly. He’s meeting her down at the bar for a drink, and we’re all invited by to say hi. Smug son of a bitch.”

            “Yeah. Because Holly’s just your type.” Noct pushes himself upright, braces on one arm and scrubs sleep out of his eyes with his knuckles before swinging his feet over the side of the bed. “Fuck. Can we just get bread tonight, or something?”

            “I could do bread. Like from that shop down by the parking lot? Love that stuff.” I sit up and eye him – his back is to me, but I can still tell a lot. “You feelin’ ok? All that crazy sword parkour getting to your stomach?”

            “A little,” Noct admits. Warping used to make him nauseous when he was learning, but he hasn’t complained about it since we left Insomnia. “Could be the warping. Could be the Cup Noodles.”

            Could be a lot of things. I scoot up behind him, put my arms around him, rest one hand on his stomach and my chin on his shoulder. This isn’t weird for us – or maybe everything is weird for us, and this just isn’t any weirder than the rest of our friendship.  It’s simple, and comfortable, and when he leans back against me and relaxes it’s almost like we’re back in his apartment for a minute.

            “We can bring you back some bread, if you just want to rest. I’m a shitty friend for waking you up.”

            “You’re fine.” Noct tips his head back against my shoulder, settles one hand over mine. “If you didn’t wake me up now, I’d probably be up before Iggy tomorrow, and I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

            “I hate how much this shit tires you out.” I kiss the spot where my chin has been resting – chaste for now, just affection, the kind most people are either too busy or too in awe of his status to give him. You don’t snuggle up on a future king. Apparently you don’t even talk to him, if you’re most people. You admire him from afar, imagining his full and wonderful life, all the important friends he must have back at the Citadel when really it’s just me and Iggy and Gladio in his inner circle. “I wish I could be tired for you. I wish we could just go play video games.”

            “You do enough for me.” Noct’s hand tightens over mine in a squeeze.

            I nuzzle in where his neck meets his shoulder. “Is it cool if I do more, or would you rather just chill?” Nine times out of ten, stuff like this goes nowhere, with us. We could lie back down and take a nap together, start a pillow fight with each other, or just go get dinner with Iggy – but something in Noct loosens up a little, like he’s been waiting for this.

            “Very cool,” he assures me, and takes his hand off mine to reach up and card his fingers through my hair, messing it all up when it probably still looked awesome.

            “Just making sure.” I trace a few circles on his stomach through his tee shirt before slipping my hand under it to do the same against his skin – half to turn him on, and half just to comfort him. Sometimes I think that all the things that he has to swallow about his life end up here, making him sick sometimes and super sensitive about this pretty much always. His breath catches with a little suck of his teeth, and the muscles under my hand flutter before he relaxes, melts into me, tightens his fingers in my hair and pulls me in for a kiss.

            He tastes like toothpaste and long summer nights back home, and it feels good to be doing this again – it’s familiar and comforting and something that isn’t gone now, unlike most of what normal used to be for both of us. I grip his hips with my knees and slide closer, petting softly under his tee shirt and tracing the too-soft skin along his waistband until he makes this tiny noise in the back of his throat.

            “You’re way thin,” I tell him when we come up for air. “Gonna be skinnier than me soon.”

            “Not physically possible.”

            “Stomach feel better?”

            “Absolutely.”

            I slip my hand down a little, pop the button on his pants and press my forehead to his. “Just relax, okay? I got this.”

            Noct catches my free hand with his, tangles our fingers together and shuts his eyes. “I know.”

            Then he’s gasping a little, shivering a lot, and I kiss him again as he shift into my hand. I’m going to need a super cold shower or six before we get dinner, but right now I just want this to be for him – something human that I can do for my really human best friend, and just how he likes it. He doesn’t have to be a prince right now. This isn’t to make him a stronger, better person so he can save the world. I just love him, and he’s been feeling like shit, and I want him to feel good for a while.

            He’s always quiet, but with Iggy waiting across the hall I’m careful not to wind him up too much - he has to get his shit together and eat after this, not go straight back to sleep and leave me coming up with an excuse. I take my time, hushing him a little when he starts to get close and holding him steady against me. I can feel his heartbeat right through his spine and into my own ribs, strong and even, and his pulse is right under my fingers when I cradle his jaw in my hand and brush my lips against his in a not-quite kiss. Stash that rhythm in your “keep forever” box of memories, Prompto.

            “Shh. I got you. You’re fine, Noct.” Maybe I’m the one who needs to hear it. Noct, for his part, is very aware that he’s fine right now. He makes one of those little noises again, the closest thing you get to a whimper from him, and when I do that one thing with my thumb that always gets him, that’s it. I close my mouth over his and kiss him through it, knees braced wide to hold us both up, keeping him together while he comes apart and lets go.

            For a little while after, I just let him breathe, and I breathe too. Are people supposed to be this comfortable, with their faces this close for this long? I can tell when his eyes finally flutter open because his eyelashes brush mine. I draw back a little and look at him.

            “Good?”

            “Better than good. _Way_ better than bread.”

            “I just beat an entire staple of the human diet. Awesome.”

            Noct shifts around and snuggles in against me; he couldn’t really reach me the way that all worked out, but now he’s skimming a hand down my chest. “Want me to get you back? No way you can go to dinner like that.”

            I catch his hand, kiss his fingers and then his forehead. “Get me back after dinner. I’m gonna hop in the shower after you. Feel free to use up all the hot water.” If I’m really honest with myself, I just want this to last for a while longer – for us to come back to the room later with something more than another, darker day of unexpected bullshit to look forward to in the morning.

             “Deal.” One more kiss to seal it, and we untangle ourselves, and soon enough I’m staring at the ceiling fan again, listening to the hiss of the shower and Noct swearing when he bangs off something in there. Gladio is definitely down at the bar by now, probably having a really nice time with Holly. Maybe we really should stop by and say hi on our way to the bread shop.

            Guaranteed, I am not going to be jealous.


	3. Chapter 3

            Lestallum is starting to seem big, now.

            The realization punches me in the face one night, when me and Noct are wandering around it for hours looking for steam valves. We’re supposed to be checking them for Holly, make sure they’re doing what steam valves are supposed to do and then checking back with her down at the bar when we’re done. She and Gladio are out on their third date tonight, and she would have had to cancel on him if we hadn’t volunteered to do this.

            “We are good friends,” I remind Noct as we backtrack again, looking for a valve we missed because the scenery all blends here, now, and nothing really stands out anymore. We are used to this place, too comfortable here, and every time we come back from a few days of hunting the city lights seem to shine just a little bit brighter. It’s hard to remember that this entire place could fit inside one neighborhood of Insomnia with room to spare. It’s hard to remember how big home was, _really_ big, or how small this place felt when we first got here. “We are very, very good friends, and we are doing a good thing.”

            “What do you think happens if we miss one?” Noct sounds curious rather than concerned. “Think something blows up?”

            “That is not a thing we should find out.” We hit a corner, cut down the side street we’re pretty sure we just came down. “Pretty sure the big guy will throw us off the lookout if we get his girlfriend in trouble at work.” Nope. No steam valve. We turn another corner into an even tighter alley, all boxes and pipes and scattered debris from a day full of life – papers, wrappers, something heavy and metal that Noct catches with the toe of his boot and kicks ahead of us. I pick it up; another one of those Oracle Ascension coins that Trash Jesus threw at us back in Galden Quay. I hand it to Noct, who has more pockets, and on we go.

            “Can’t throw me off the lookout,” Noct points out cheerfully. “I’m the only crystal fuel they got. And besides, Titan and I are cool, now. I think.”

            _Crystal fuel._ Something goes tight in my chest at those words. We talk about the crystal all the time – why we need it, why they can’t have it, how to get it back – but we never, ever talk about what it will do to him. None of us really know what being the King of Light even _means_ ; the prophecies are old and verbose and full of vague metaphors that tell us fuck all about what he’s got to do, or how to protect him while he does it. If the crystal sucked the life out of King Regis, what’s it going to do to him once that ring is powered up to max capacity? How much magic can you stick inside one human being, and what will that mean for him?

            He’s happy here. I can tell by his eyes, and how well he sleeps, and how social he’s been since the Leville became our base of operations – eager to go down to the bread shop, the bar, happy to walk around all night and do shit like this for Holly. Pretty much everyone we ever went to school with would be surprised how much Noct actually likes people, or how much he needs to be around them. He’s just shy, maybe even more shy than me, and with an entirely different set of skills to cope with that.

            I push him a little. “You’re not crystal fuel. You’re my best friend. I’ll push you off the lookout if I want to.”

            “Awesome.” Noct pushes me back, one of those playful little shoves that kicked off our friendship. “Then you’re stuck looking for the rest of these things, and I’m dead and not. I swear we’ve been down this alley six times already.”

            “We’ve only gotta find…” I could in my head “…three more. Shit, no. Still four. We never found the one we swore was right over there.”

            “Fuck this,” says Noct, and swings down the next alley. “I’m getting a drink.”

            Gladio and Holly always go to the bar down by the main drag, so we cut across the big street up to the plant and head for Tostwell Grill at the back of the market; they’ve got cheap, light beer that we’ve both gotten used to and almost convinced ourselves that we like. Back home we drank like kids – mixed his dad’s good brandy with orange juice, or bought this sweet cherry liquor and dumped it in slushies from the convenience store. Now we’re ordering beers in an open air market in a city we never thought we’d visit, toasting each other as we wander down the line of stalls.

            “We are very good friends,” I remind him again. “We are not getting drunk and not finding the rest of these dumb things.”

            “Cheers.” Noct tips his head back for a swig – Lestallum is a billion degrees, even at night, which is probably what makes this beer taste so good. I take a swig too, catch a steam valve out of the corner of my eye and swing out an arm to stop him.

            “Valve!” I point with my bottle, in case he missed it there, ten feet away. “Do the valve thing. You’re the expert.”  

            Noct rolls his eyes. “I’ve checked three steam valves in my entire life,” he points out – but he’s smiling, and he does it, and when he gives it the thumbs up we’re one valve closer to done.

            “The beer was a good idea,” I tell him. “We’re way better at this when we’re drinking.”

            “This is probably why they don’t let men do this. You know all those guys passed out on benches down by the lookout at like 2pm? That would be me, if I had this job.”

            _If you had this job, you’d probably live long enough to—_ I drink, wash the thought back down into my gut before it can complete itself and let it dissolve in the beer for now. “If you had this job you’d get fired, and we’d go be hunters instead.”

            Noct tilts his head from side to side, probably weighing the considerable amount of part time jobs he’s been fired from for a guy who’s never needed one to begin with. “Fair,” he concedes. “But you gotta admit, I was pretty damn good at that whole pylon thing.”

            “The best.” I sling am arm around his shoulders. I am not going to waste the time I have with this incredible human being who I’m lucky enough to call my best friend. If he’s crystal fuel, then he’s crystal fuel; I can’t change his fate any more than he can, but I am not going to be sad while he’s right here, alive and breathing and drinking shitty beer with me in an alley in Lestallum and actually having fun for once. This is turning into a very good night – the kind of night we’d never have back in Insomnia and exactly the kind of night we’d have back in Insomnia, all at once.

            We find two more valves before we head back for another drink – and we deserve a break at that point, right? So we drink that one at Tostwell, and the third one we take with us on our hunt for our final nemesis.

             “We are the worst friends ever.” I draw up at an intersection we’ve hit six times already. “How the hell are we not finding this thing?”

            “We keep talking about stupid shit from high school, that’s how.” Drinking doesn’t turn Noct into a social butterfly, but it chips away at some of his natural shyness, makes me think he might have turned out more like me if he didn’t have to seem so cool and in control all the time. “We probably walked right past it a dozen times, just like the rest of them.”

            We turn left, back down towards the outlook, and past a little bodega where a few younger girls from the plant are hanging out over drinks. One of them eyes Noct up as he takes another swig of his beer and wipes the sweat off his face with the shoulder of his tee shirt.

            Everyone who knew his mother says he looks just like her. Maybe not literally – there’s enough of King Regis in there for people to notice it as he gets older – but even from the pictures I’ve seen, the resemblance is pretty uncanny. He’s got her eyes and her mile-long eyelashes, and the same sharp angle of her jaw.

            Nobody ever told me how she died, and Noct says that he barely remembers her now – jokes that she’d probably be proud of Iggy for how he’s taken over the job. Which he has, in a lot of weird ways that most people wouldn’t understand anymore than they would understand how I can be totally head over heels for Cindy, and sleep with his face a half inch from mine at night, and have it all be that simple.

            “Hey, Noct?”

            “S’up?”

            “Weird question.”

            “Shoot.”

            “Does Lestallum seem kind of big to you, now?”

            Noct shrugs a little, his eyes quiet. “It doesn’t seem small anymore,” he finally offers. “It’s actually a pretty cool town, once you get used to it.”

            “I’m glad we got to come here.” My beer is pretty warm, so I finish it off in a few long gulps. “I knew we’d see a lot of cool places on this road trip, but I never expected to actually feel at home in any of them, you know?”

            “Me either. Growing up, I was always stuck in the Citadel. I barely knew my way around Insomnia. Now I know my way around this place like the back of my hand, and it’s _weird._ But not bad.” Noct slips his free hand into mine and squeezes. “I’m glad we got to come here, too.”

            “Fuck.” I stop dead, squeeze his hand back for an entirely different reason; we are almost back at the Leville, in an alley we’ve walked down over and over, and twenty feet in front of us is our final steam valve. “Dude. We are so blind.”

            Noct draws up beside me, looks where I’m looking, and bursts out laughing – real, genuine laughter, the kind that cuts through all the royal titles and the badass image and makes him just Noctis, the person. “Holy shit, that’s great. We are fuckin’ great.”

            I lift my free hand up and knot it in my hair, still baffled. “Are you kidding me? We are the _worst._ I am officially firing us.”

            Noct swigs down the rest of his beer, swings around to face me and wraps his arms loose around my shoulders. “Fine. We’re fired.” He presses his forehead to mine. “We’re still great. I mean that.”

            I slip my arms around his waist; it’s too hot for this, and we’re both all sticky and gross, but neither one of us cares about that sort of thing. “Oh. Like overall. Yeah.” He’s too close up to see, now, but his eyes are still open, and I can tell we’re both smiling. “We’re pretty great.”

            “Hey, Prom?”

            “S’up?”

            “Weird question.”

            “Shoot.”

            “ _Am_ I a good friend?” We’re pretty much breathing each other’s words, and Noct’s voice is soft enough to stay in the small, close space between us. “Like I know I suck at this royalty thing, and finding shit, and a lot of the other stuff I’ve got to do - but when it comes to you and Iggy and Gladio… I mean, you guys _know_ , right? That if shit were different, and this was all on one of you instead, that I’d have your back the way you guys have mine?”

            It’s probably good that he’s quiet by nature; if he talked a lot, he would have broken my heart with stuff like this a long time ago, and it would be crumbling under the weight of all the things he’s going through now. I ruffle my fingers through the back of his hair, the part that he never spikes up. “How many times have you let me stop to take some crazy picture now, do you think?”

            I can’t hear him laugh, even this close, but I can feel the breath of it against my own lips. “Probably a million. Million and three, maybe.”

            “How many times has Ignis asked what you wanted for dinner, and you’ve suggested something that he likes more than you do?”

            “He’s the one who cooks all the time. It’s only fair.”

            “How many times have you volunteered to do some dumb shit for Holly just so Gladio can spend more time with her? Just because she’s a nice person, and you want to see them both happy for a while? How long did you spend walking around out here tonight, looking for steam valves in this god-awful heat so they could have a nice night together? You are a really good friend, Noct. You were a _great_ one to me back in Longwythe when I really needed to talk. I know that everything’s fucked up and weird now, and that nothing was ever really normal to begin with, for us – but trust me. We know you’ve got our backs.”

            “Okay. Good. Because my dad...” He swallows hard. “I don’t want to look back someday, and realize that I was here for everybody _except_ the people I care about most. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it _and_ be there for you guys, and Luna, and everyone who matters to me. I’m not leaving anyone behind when I walk into that throne room.”

            He knows better than I do how far away that throne room is right now, and how much farther than that he’ll have to go to get back there. I rub his back gently, shut my eyes so he’ll shut his and relax for a minute. “Of course you’re not, you jerk. We’re going with you, all the way to wherever and back, and when it’s time for you to take the throne you’re gonna let me sit on it at least once. Because you are a really good friend.”

            Noct is smiling again. “You can take a selfie on it.”

            “With Luna?”

            “Don’t push it.”

            “I take it all back. Worst friend ever. But seriously – don’t worry, ok?”

            Noct takes a deep breath and lets go of more than just air on the exhale. “Yeah. Okay.” 

            I pull back enough to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Now go check that stupid valve before Holly and Gladio come looking for us.”

            “Ten gil says it’s fine,” bets Noct – and he’s right, because of course he is after all the time we spent looking for the thing. We ignore the weird looks a couple of girls from the plant are giving us and slink back off towards the main drag.

            Gladio and Holly are still down at the bar, easy to spot because he’s the biggest guy in town, and she’s all lit up like a piece of the meteor beside him, glowing every time their eyes meet. Gladio toasts us with his mug from afar and waves us over. “Hey you two. How’d it go out there?”

            “Great,” Noct sounds totally earnest. “Found ‘em all without a hitch, messed with a few, had a couple beers at Tostwell on the way back.” He shrugs, light and easy. “No big deal.”

            “I don’t know how to thank you guys.” Holly really is a great girl, and she looks really cute tonight with her hair all pulled up and that million gil smile glued to her face. “For this, and for everything else you’ve been doing around here.”

            “Happy to help out.” Noct looks back up the street towards the power plant, drinking in the lights of this town that feels like our own little city, now. “Lestallum’s a really nice place. It was fun walking around.”

            “I’d buy you guys one” –Gladio raises his nearly empty beer mug— “but we’re gonna finish these and call it a night. Holly’s got an early morning up at the plant - and it looks like you guys may have had enough for one night, already.” He’s right – we’re not wasted by a long shot, but we’re as drunk as we can afford to be out here, where anything can happen anytime and we have to be able to function like real people at a moment’s notice.

            “No worries, big guy. We should head back, anyway – Iggy’s gonna turn into a pumpkin or something if I don’t get Prince Charmless here home before midnight.”

            Noct rolls his eyes. “Seriously. Everybody keep calling me that.”

            Gladio shoots us both a big brother grin, arm draped across the back of Holly’s chair. “Get some sleep, kids. See you in the morning.”

            “See?” I elbow Noct as we weave our way through the tables and back up the street. “Really good friends. Those two had a great date tonight, all because of us.”

            “Guess nobody’s getting thrown off the lookout tonight.” Noct yawns and stretches, cracking his knuckles over his head.

            “They make a good couple.” I shove my hands in my pockets and tip my head back; Lestallum may seem big now, but the swatch of night sky over the alley is bright with all sorts of stars that we couldn’t see back home. “I mean I know we’re not gonna be around long, and Holly’s already married to her work, but it seems like they’ve really got something going, you know? Maybe there’s hope for me and Cindy yet.”

            Noct chuckles. “Man, what did she _do_ to you?”

            “Other than steal my heart the moment I laid eyes on her?”

            “Have you guys seriously ever had a complete conversation with each other?”

            “You know what your problem is, Noct? No romantic whimsy.”

            “Saving it for Luna.”

            I grin and bump my shoulder into his. “Very sweet, Prince Charming.”

            “Shut up.” Noct bumps me back with his shoulder, overbalances a little and stumbles into me just as we come of the alley and into Iggy’s view. He’s out in front of the Leville, lounging at one of those little tables with a can of Ebony and a copy of the evening news paper, eyeing us as we come out on the plaza. “Shit. Busted by Road Mom. Be cool.”

            He’s only half joking, and we both make an effort to look like we’ve been out doing Responsible Shit all night, rather than walking in circles and drinking. “Hey, Specs. What’s the news?” Noct nods his chin at the paper in a preemptive strike. “Am I still dead?”

            “Not a whisper of your royal ghost this week. I daresay we’ve been on the move too much for any rumors to stick as of late.” Ignis folds the paper neatly with a sparkle in his eye. “Perhaps there’s something to be said for a bit of aimless wandering now and again.”

            Noct gives him a close, narrow once-over. “You saw us walking in circles, didn’t you.”

            “I happened to notice you pass more than once while I was down at the market. Stocking up on spices, as it were. Really, you two – I’m sure Holly would have given you a map, if you’d only asked.”

            Noct shrugs, “Not gonna have a map to the crystal. Anyway, we found them all. Don’t tell Gladio it was hard.”

            “It might have been a bit easier to focus on the task at hand if you’d saved the celebratory drinks for _after_ the victory.” But Iggy is smiling, leaning back in his chair. “I hope you both paced yourselves appropriately.”

            “We were the very souls of moderation.” I put my hand over my heart for a little added drama. “No hangovers, guaranteed.”

            “”You should be seeing Gladio pretty soon. He and Holly were finishing up their drinks when we checked in with them down at the bar.” Noct knows as well as I do that Iggy will be up and out here until he’s back. He only goes to bed after the rest of us are well and truly settled at night, is up before everyone else in the morning, hovering somewhere close by until we’re all awake.

            “I’ll keep an eye out,” he assures us. “Why don’t you two get some rest?”

            “That’s the plan.” Noct claps his hand down on Iggy’s shoulder and squeezes. “Night, Specs. Don’t stay up too late, huh?”

            “See you in the morning, Iggy.” I lead the way into the lobby; it’s marginally cooler in here, and even though the temperature in our room is something we would have bitched about back in air-conditioned Insomnia it feels great tonight. We shower in turns, throw our clothes on when we’re only half dry and flop onto the bed nearest the window to catch the midnight breeze.

            For a long time we just lie there, stretched out cool and quiet in the dark with the sounds of the street wafting up through the windows. Insomnia nights are a weird kind of quiet, filled with big city white noise that you don’t even hear if you’ve grown up there. Lestallum is full of music at night, and people laughing right under your window, and even in the few fairly still and quiet hours before dawn there is always someone from the plant checking _something_ out there.

            I fold one arm behind my head. “Hey, Noct?”

            “Mmm?” I’m not surprised that he’s already drifting off.

            “After this is all over, let’s come back here and visit, okay? I mean obviously you’re gonna have a shit ton of Important King Stuff to do, so maybe not right away… but once things settle down, we should come back and grab a beer at Tostwell.”

            Noct’s hand slips into mine, a single point of contact on another too-hot night in Lestallum. “We’ll come back. There’s a lot to rebuild out here, and I’m not gonna sit around in the Crown City and just hope it gets done right.” His fingers close around mine in a little squeeze. “Gonna need a royal retinue to travel with me.”

            I squeeze back. “Too bad. You’re bringing us three instead.”

            Maybe we’ll never make it back to Lestallum. Maybe we won’t even make it to Altissia – I don’t know much about boats, but I know they can sink. Maybe the sun won’t come up tomorrow. Maybe we are already screwed and doing this all for nothing, and this really is just four dumb humans trying to hold the ocean back with a spoon.  

            It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re here, and we’re doing this, and we’re finding all sorts of weird ways to live our lives along the way. Lestallum may seem big now, and my perspective may be all screwed up about a lot of things, but I know a good night when I have one. Tonight was one of them, any way you measure it.

            “’Course I’m bringing you three.” Noct’s hand is relaxing in mine, voice faint with the oncoming lull of sleep. “Really good friend, remember?”

            I shut my eyes with a little smile. “How could I forget?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack! Sorry for the delay; I got working on other things, and it took longer than I expected to get back to this bit and clean it up for posting. Apologies if I missed any typos. Feedback is always much appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thanks to everyone who's given me feedback on this piece so far, and a hundred million apologies for the HUGE delay in this chapter! I wrote all of these pieces individually, and figuring out how to post them has been the biggest challenge so far - a lot of them have a very clear timeline to them, but I wasn't sure where this particular scene fit in the grand scheme of things. It's also quite long compared to some of the other pieces, and I strongly considered splitting it into two chapters, but I'm a sucker for a thematic thread that runs beginning to end through a piece, and this one has a couple of them that would have become loose ends had I split it in half.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!! And thank you again for all the kindness so far; I was REALLY nervous to see how my interpretation of these characters would fly, but you've all been so kind, and it's inspired me to keep posting. Feedback is always welcome!

            It’s midnight and it’s raining and we’re all fucking exhausted, and I swear to the six that this red giant is never going to die. All we want to do is go back – to a hotel, a camper, anywhere dry – and sleep for the next three hundred years. Maybe that stupid crystal will have chosen a new Chosen One by then. Maybe this stupid storm will finally be over.

            “Hey! Blondie!” Is that me? I guess that’s me, now – Gladio has been calling me that, and Noct’s picked it up, but I’m so tired that it takes me a second to realize who he’s talking to. I follow his voice, aim through the rain, and fire off two solid lines of shots on the thing before I start to lose range. There’s only so close I can get to stuff like this; Gladio and Iggy are trained for close range combat, and Noct can pretty much fly, but I stay alive out here by shooting straight and being very, very fast. One direct hit from a giant flaming sword, and I am quite literally toast. I take one last pot shot as the giant rocks back, score a direct hit, and shoulder roll into a bush before it can swing.

            “Nice aim, kid!” Gladio is somewhere off to my left, but I can’t see him at all – we’re down near the Fallgrove tonight, and the trees are making everything harder. We started this fight on the road with the streetlights to help us out, but now we’re out here in this stupid field with nothing but our body lamps and the glow of the red giant’s sword to guide us. I stumble in the underbrush, drop to one knee and reload as Noct whips his engine blade back into the armiger, pulls out his broadsword, and warps straight at the thing’s face.

            The red giant’s sword hits him so hard that I’m sure he’s dead on contact. The certainty of it hits me square in the chest – my best friend is already dead, and now I am watching his body cartwheel through the air like a rag doll, smash into the rock face thirty yards away and crash down through the trees to land in a broken heap at the foot of it.

            “Noct!!” I can hear my voice outside my own head, far away, full of the horror I am too numb to actually feel yet. Noct is dead, and we are going to have to carry his corpse back to—where? The Regalia? Oh god, we’re going to have to _drive_ with—

            Then he pushes himself up to one knee, and the world turns itself back on around me. Gladio is still on the red giant, and Iggy is already on his way to Noct, but I’m ten times closer and twice as fast. I shoot over my shoulder as I run, don’t bother to dodge branches, slide down a couple of rocks and nearly crash into Noct as he tries to get his feet under him.

            “I’m okay,” he tells me, before I can get a word out. “I—“

            “—Get down!” The red giant is practically on us, swinging too wildly for Iggy and Gladio to hold it off; I drag Noct down into the dirt under me, flatten us both to the ground and hang on to him as the heat of the blade sweeps over us.

            It suddenly occurs to me that _I_ might actually die here – distantly, like it’s a thought about someone else, some other poor asshole stuck in some other rainstorm, fighting some other giant demon that of course might fucking kill him. The fact that we’re not scared out of our minds pretty much every second of the day out here is amazing. We fight monsters for a living, fight imperial soldiers on the fly every day, then go and have lunch at the Crow’s Nest like it was all no big deal. _How the hell do we do that?_ I wonder vaguely, cheek pressed to Noct’s hair as the red giant’s blade skims over us again. _We really are like characters from a video game._

            “Stay down, you two!” Like we were going to get up? Iggy’s voice is closer than I expected it to be, but I don’t dare raise my head and see what’s going on – the ground is shaking, and the blaze of the red giant’s sword cuts right through my eyelids every time it swings. _Is it just too tall to hit us? Is it stupid? Why aren’t we dead yet?_

            This isn’t anything like I expected my last moments to be. I expected to be so scared, regretting everything, wishing I’d just stayed that fat kid on the couch, safe in my house with my dreams of real friends. Instead I’m here in the dark and the rain, face down in the mud with a best friend who I would die for, and now I’m going to do it. Noct and I are dying together in this stupid field in Duscae – and it’s okay, I guess. I’m not excited about it, but I don’t have any regrets, either. My whole life, all I ever wanted was friends.

            Now I have them – three of them – and here we are, saving the world. Or something. This is everything I ever wanted, exactly the way I never imagined it. A rock explodes somewhere above us, and bits and pieces of debris rain down on us like hot hail. Noct’s fingers are digging into my arm, and his head is tucked under my chin, and I bury my face in his hair and tell him, “It’s fine, Noct. We’re fine.”

            Then there’s this loud, horrible grinding of metal on metal, almost like a scream, and the next thing I know Iggy is on us, cracking potions open and pulling us both up out of the mud. The red giant is crumbling back into the earth, inky black tendrils of demon juju bubbling up and then disappearing into the dirt. That never gets any less weird, no matter how many times I see it happen. I get my feet under me, stumble back into Iggy as Noct stumbles back into both of us.

            And suddenly the night is quiet, save for the wind and the rain and us panting for breath. I can feel the rain on my face again, freezing cold. Why am I not cold, anymore? My arm is still around Noct, and his ribs are heaving against mine.  

            “Holy shit. We’re not dead,” I point out.

            “Are you two all right?” Iggy is sort of holding up both of us, his arm this weird band of warmth around me. Seriously, I should be really cold by now - I’ve been soaking wet for hours, and I could barely feel my toes when the battle started back by the car.

            “I’m… good. I think?” Noct sounds as uncertain about this as I feel, his voice dazed and a little shaky. He drags his fingers through his hair, blinks back at the spot where the giant vanished as though trying to clear his vision. “Wow. Guess I really fucked up, huh?”

            “Not exactly your finest moment,” I agree, patting his shoulder as we all take charge of holding ourselves up again; my knees are shaking like crazy, but they hold. I can still see the red giant’s sword crashing into him full force, bigger than his entire body and _on fire_ — “On the upside, if watching you get bitch slapped halfway back to Lestallum by a demon the size of my house didn’t give me a heart attack, then probably nothing will.” If I can joke about it, then it can’t get any bigger than this. So we almost died. Happens all the time. I push my own hair out of my face as Gladio comes sliding up beside us, sword still drawn and eyes sharp as the blade of it.

            “Everybody still in one piece?” Our body lamps are just a dim glow in the downpour, but I can still see the worry etched in hard, deep lines across his face.

            Noct nods, and I give him the thumbs up, ignore the way that my hand is still shaking as bad as my knees are. “Yep. Weirdly okay.”

            “That remains to be seen.” Iggy is still hovering, brushing grass and mud off Noct’s jacket like a mother with a potion still at the ready. “You both had a very close call out there, and restoratives can only do so much.”

            Gladio’s eyes cut through the darkness around us, sharp and alert, but he’s breathing harder than he should be and his sword is still at the ready on his shoulder. “Come on, you three. We’ll figure out who broke what bones later – right now, we need to get out of here. We can’t go another round tonight.”

            They’re both right. We are done. Potions do their jobs, and for the moment we’re all walking and talking and moving under our own steam back towards the car, but human bodies aren’t made to go from broken to healed in a few seconds flat. We should all be in the hospital, and Noct should be in a morgue, and no magic can fix the bone deep exhaustion that has us all stumbling by the time we reach the Regalia.

             “You good to drive, Iggy?” asks Gladio, pulling Noct’s door open for him. “I can get us back to Longwythe if I have to.”

            “I can manage, but we best take it slow – visibility will be poor, and I think we’ve all taken enough chances for one night.”

            “Sorry, Mom,” Noct groans as we all pile into the car. “You can send me to bed without dinner – I’m not gonna be able to stay awake long enough to eat it, anyway.” The Regalia has heated seats, and a _roof,_ and I’ve never been so happy to be inside anywhere, ever. I curl up in my seat, aim a dashboard vent directly at my own face; I’m still not cold, but the warmth feels so good it almost hurts.

            “You are eating.” Iggy could probably shut down the whole war in a single sentence, if he just used that tone of voice on Trash Jesus; the note of finality in it shuts Noct right up. “And there will be no napping of any sort until I’m entirely sure that neither of you have sustained injuries beyond the scope of what potions can heal in a night.” He cuts his eyes sideways at me. “That goes for you as well, Prompto.”

            I blink, too tired to be truly surprised by anything but definitely not expecting that. “Who, me? I’m all good. That thing barely touched me.”

            Iggy eyes me a second longer. “An entire rock face just fell on you, piece by piece,” he says flatly. Shit. Did it? I’m suddenly realizing that I’m not the only one in this car with things that they want to un-see, tonight. “Put the radio on. Have a nice chat. We all stay awake until we make Longwythe.”

            A warm hand claps onto my shoulder from behind, squeezes tight. “Good job out there, Blondie. The Crownsguard trained you up right; that could have gone a lot worse, if it wasn’t for you.”

             “The Crownsguard?” Oh, right; I’m in the Crownsguard, now. Hence the cool outfit. “Right. Yeah. I don’t know, I was just…”

            “Saving my ass.” Noct saves me from having to explain that I seriously forget what my job is most of the time – that it was all just instinct tonight, for better or for worse. “Thanks for that. Seriously.”

            “I got you, buddy.” I like how I sound like it’s no big deal, like part of me isn’t still stuck in that moment when he hit the ground, and I was sure I’d be carrying a corpse back to Longwythe. “You do some stupid shit, count on me to do it with you.”

            Gladio lets go of my shoulder with a pat. “Let’s all lay off the stupid shit for a while, huh? You gotta focus in a fight like that, Noct. You gotta make sure that—“

            “—Gladio.” Noct tips over sideways, head landing in his shield’s lap. “Tomorrow, okay? You’re right, and I get it, but right now I gotta focus on not throwing up.”

            “You puke on my leg and you’re not gonna live to see tomorrow.” But Gladio is already ruffling his hair, rubbing some warmth back into his arm. “And don’t you dare fall asleep.”

            “Not sleeping.” I glance in the rearview; Noct’s eyes are shut, his face drawn and too pale in the dim dashboard lighting. “Just really, really looking forward to it.”

            Iggy is hard-focused on the road. “Not much longer now. Let me know if you need me to pull over, Noct.”

            “No way. I’ll throw up on Prompto before I go back out in this rain.”

            “Hey! Why me?”

            “Done it before.” It’s true. The first time we tried drinking did not go so well.

            “No vomiting inside the Regalia,” Iggy says firmly. “New rule.”

            “We’ll be out of the rain soon enough, anyway,” Gladio assures him. “Comin’ up on the desert soon. Longwythe should be dry as a bone.”

            That’s weird to think about. I’ve been wet and miserable for so long that it’s hard to imagine the dry desert breeze that’s literally right around the corner; we are coming through the Kettier Highlands now, and the rain isn’t driving against the windshield with quite as much force anymore. I blink at the double yellow line guiding us back – everything still feels fuzzy, miles away, but if I think about how tired I am there will be no coming back from it.

            “Stay with me, Prompto.” Iggy shakes my knee a little, eyes still on the road.

            “I’m here. Totally wide awake.” I yawn, try to stretch and wince at the soreness in pretty much every joint. We will all be feeling this in the morning – all the bones that knit too fast, the sore spots that should have been mortal wounds. There’s no way we could get the rest we need at a camp; our only choice is to keep pushing for Longwythe, keep up the conversation that is keeping us all awake and together until the rain finally lets up, and the glow of the Three Z’s comes into view.

            “Almost there, buddy,” I tell Noct, who still has his head in Gladio’s lap and has been struggling more and more to stay with us.

            “Great. Can’t wait to puke in a nice, dry parking lot.”

            Gladio rubs his shoulder reassuringly. “You puke, we’ll check in. The sooner we’re settled for the night, the better.”

            “On it,” Noct assures him.

            In the end, he doesn’t make it to the parking lot; we pull over by the silos just beyond the hotel, and he hits the dirt on his knees, already retching. I stumble out after him, will my knees not to give out and crouch beside him. Noct hates throwing up, hates feeling sick more than he will ever admit to Iggy or Gladio. I rub his back for him, slow easy strokes up and down his spine.

            “Stay with him.” Gladio is out of the car, too, and Iggy is putting it park right where it is behind us. “I’ll get the room.”

            “I got him.” Nobody has eaten since breakfast, and there’s not much for him to throw up, but his stomach doesn’t give up on him until he’s dry heaved himself into the next dimension of tired.

            “Fuck. Dinner,” he announces when he can finally breathe again, gasping for air between each word and slumping against me in the dirt while Iggy unpacks all our stuff from the trunk of the car.

            “Think you made your point on that one. Just take it easy for a minute, okay? Gladio’s getting the room key right now, and Iggy’s practically got us moved in already.”

            “He’s right, you know,” Noct wheezes, spitting in the dirt.

            “Who’s right about what?”

            “Gladio. He’s right about your Crownsguard training. You kicked ass out there tonight – and you really did save mine.”

            “Listen, Noct, I wasn’t even thinking about the Crownsguard when I—“

            “—No. Stop. You’re _good_ , Prompto. I know you’re only out here because you’re my friend – and you know how much that means to me – but you’re so much better than you think at all this. You were _way_ better than me tonight, and I probably wouldn’t be here without you.” He coughs, spits again, waves a hand at me when I try to cut in. “Last time we were here, you said you felt like nothing. Quit that shit. Quit thinking like that. You earned those Crownsguard fatigues fair and square.”

            Well, shit. I’m too tired not to get choked up right now. I sniff, swallow hard, laugh at myself while I’m blinking the tears back. “Call my old house phone back in Insomnia.” I joke. “Tell my parents that, if they’re still alive. ‘Oh hey Mrs. Argentum, it’s just Prince Noctis calling from beyond the grave to tell you that your son is actually pretty awesome’.”

            Noct grabs me by the jaw with more force than I expected him to have left in his entire body at this point, and pulls my face up so I have to look at him. “Your parents would be proud of you, Prom. My dad would be proud of you, too.”

            Oh screw it. I’m so tired I could cry anyway, and everything is starting to hit me at once – the cold that I haven’t been feeling, the fear I have been swallowing, all the aches and pains and the weight of the whole night pushing down on me. I give up, sit down, pull him into my arms and push my face into his shoulder and cry like the little bitch I always thought I was, but maybe am not, anymore. My whole life, all I ever wanted was friends. Maybe these really _are_ the ones I’m supposed to have.

            “Hey, shhh.” Noct’s hand comes up through my hair. “It’s fine, Prom. We’re fine.”

            “You are not allowed to fucking die on me.” I’m holding on way too tightly, digging my fingers into his shoulder and back a lot harder than I mean to, but Noct either doesn’t care or is still too numb to feel it.

            “Definitely not in my plans,” he assures me.

            “Didn’t plan on it tonight.”

            “Didn’t die, either.”

            “ _Total_ technicality.”

            “Still counts.”

            I sniff and shut my eyes again, forehead resting against his shoulder. “Sure does.”

            “Hey, kids.” I didn’t even hear Gladio come up on us, but his hand comes down on my back, gentle as a big brother. “Let’s move the make out session inside, huh? Iggy’s got the first aid kit all busted out, and he wants to take a look at you both.”

            I wipe my face on Noct’s shirt – who even cares, at this point? – and take a few deep breaths. “I’m okay,” I assure him. “I’m just really tired, and Noct said something nice.”

            “Don’t give me that look.” I can’t see Gladio’s face, but Noct sounds indignant. “I can be nice.”

            Gladio smirks. “I’ll believe it when I see it. C’mon.” And then he’s helping us up, guiding us back to the hotel room like he’s steering two drunks home from the bar.

            The Three Z’s is dry and cozy, with a space heater in the corner for cool desert nights and two soft beds that look so good I could cry all over again – but Iggy wasn’t messing around about running triage tonight. He pokes and prods, checking vitals and peering into our eyes until Noct starts to get annoyed, and I’m too numb to care anymore.

            “No lasting damage,” he finally concedes. “A bit hypothermic, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re both suffering from something of an acute stress reaction, but I doubt there’s a better medicine for either of you than a warm bed and a good night’s rest.”

            “I have no idea what the hell you just said,” Noct admits, devoid of any attitude, just too tired to process things.

            “He said you’re cold and in shock and you need to go to sleep,” Gladio explains, pushing Noct over backwards onto the bed he’s sitting on. “You too, Blondie. Lights out as soon as we’re all dry and mud-free.”

            Dry clothes help a lot; the heat in the Regalia is no joke, but we’ve all been somewhere between soaking went and unpleasantly damp pretty much all day. I steal one of Noct’s tee shirts and curl up beside him in the bed near the windows, grateful for the extra blankets Gladio scored from the front desk. “Aww yeah. Soft beds, baby.”

            “I am beyond done.” Noct rolls over, tucks his head under my chin and tugs the blankets up over his face. “Wake me up at half past never.”

            Gladio stretches out on the other bed, arms behind his head, and shuts his eyes. “Never forty-five, for me.”

            “Sleep well, all.” Iggy shuts the light off and heads for the shower – he’ll be the last to bed, and the first up tomorrow morning, sorting through our soaking wet stuff and scrubbing bloodstains out of Noct’s clothes.

            I expect to be asleep in seconds, but for a while I just lie still, warming up layer by layer and listening to Noct breathe against my collarbones. He is not a corpse tonight. I let the scene replay itself in my mind again - watch the red giant bat him into the cliff, watch him hit the ground broken, watch it all end the way it didn’t end up ending at all. I have to leave that moment here, in the dark and quiet of the desert; this isn’t something I can afford to carry with me, taking up space where better memories should be living.

            I bring back the burn of the sword through my eyelids – bright hot red, the last thing I thought I’d ever see – match my breathing to Noct’s and stare into it until it starts to fade away. That was then. This is now. Tomorrow we will probably sleep in, then hit up the Crow’s Nest for lunch like this was all no big deal, just another yesterday that we all managed to live through.

            By the time I fall asleep, all that’s left behind my eyes is the cool, quiet black of the hotel room.

 

* * *

 

            We feel like death the next morning, of course.

            I don’t remember dreaming anything – I expected nightmares, or at least a fretful night’s sleep, but neither Noct or I have moved an inch all night. We must have been pretty close to comatose, and I’m still so tired that I have no idea why I’m awake now.

            Then Iggy shakes me gently by the shoulder again. I groan a little, try and turn my head to look at him and immediately regret moving at all.

            “There you are.” His voice is soft, but it still lands too heavy on my eardrums, and I wince a little. “I hate to wake you, but you and Noct really do need to eat something.”

            “Wha..? Okay. What time is it?” There’s no way to tell with the curtains drawn – did we do that last night? – and the door shut against whatever sunlight might be out there.

            “A little past noon.”

            “A little past _what?”_ We are usually up with the sun no matter how late we’re out the night before, or how sore we are in the morning. “Holy crap. Why didn’t you get us up sooner?”

            “We tried, but even Gladio’s best singing failed to rouse you – though I’m sure that all our neighbors had no trouble getting out of bed this morning. I thought it best to simply let you sleep. The storms aren’t letting up in the highlands, and we may very well see rain in Longwythe today.”

            I groan again. “Are you kidding me? We’re in the desert.”

            “It hasn’t rained here over a year, and I hear true storms hit but once a century.” Iggy shoots a wry smile down at me. “It would be a shame to miss out on a bit of history. I suggest we stay in town for now, rest up a bit more before we’re back to the proverbial grind.”

            All my bones are made of jelly, and my whole body feels dull and sore, like I’ve had a fever for weeks and it just finally broke. “I am 100% okay with this plan, and I really doubt that Noct’s gonna complain.”

            Noct is still dead asleep in my arms, undisturbed by our voices or me shifting around. Iggy reaches over me, moves a single lock of his hair out of his eyes with deft and gentle fingers. “Do see if you can get him up before sundown, won’t you?”

            “I’ll do my best.” I’m usually not very hard to wake up, and if I slept through the bulette mating cries that Gladio calls singing, Noct has gotta be in the sixth dimension of comatose.

            “Gladio and I will be out front.” Iggy used to go through hell getting Noct up for school in the mornings, until I started sleeping over at his place most nights, sharing the stupid little twin bed in his apartment and getting him out of it with far less hassle. The truth is that we both sleep better like this, deeper than we do by ourselves, wake up more rested after sharing six inches of space in the tent than we do in comfortable beds of our own.

            He doesn’t stir at all when Iggy shuts the door behind him, or when I kiss his hair, or rub his back gently through his tee shirt. I can count every vertebra in his spine the way he’s curled into me, feel the faint ghost of his ribs every time he breathes in.

            These bones were probably broken less than twelve hours ago, some of them probably more than once. I have no idea how he ever got up on one knee like that, ever thought he was going to stand up and keep fighting. Now he’s breathing deep and even, knit back together by his own magic, the King of Light and just a very tired human, asleep in the arms of someone who loves him.

            Who the hell doesn’t need this? The prophecies say that he’s got to get all anointed by The Six, ascend and take the throne and maybe save the world, or something. They don’t say shit about who’s going to be there for him while he does it. He was alone at school the first time I saw him, alone every time I couldn’t get up the guts to approach him, alone in some way or another ever since that stupid crystal picked him out and set his fate so far apart from everyone else’s. Who’s job is it to love the Chosen One? Who’s job is it to love Noct _instead_ of the Chosen One?

            Lady Lunafreya does both better than anyone. I’ve never even met her, and I already love her in a way I can’t describe, because she loves Noct in a way that no one will ever be able to describe, not even Iggy with his giant vocabulary. They were born to do this thing together – this amazing thing that no other two people can do – and the fact that they love each other the way they do is a twist of fate so beautiful that throwing too many words at it would cheapen it. They’re the Chosen King and the Oracle, and they’re Noct and Luna, and with any luck that all combines to create a force this world has never seen before.

            But other than her, all he’s got is us three jerks. We’re the only ones with him day to day, the only ones around to make sure that the person she loves most in the world doesn’t starve for love himself while the empire keeps them apart.

            I touch the spot on his chest where the Royal Arms always hit, dead center on his breastbone, a kill shot for sure with any other weapon. “I’m still with him, Luna,” I whisper. “Doing my best. Just hang in there, okay? We’ll get him back to you."

            Some nasty little voice in the back of my head wants to know exactly how some loser like me is planning to do _that_ , but I don’t bother to give it an answer. Noct is right. I need to quit that shit. I can’t change who I am or where I’m from, but I can choose what I do, and every day since I got that letter from Luna I’ve been choosing to do my best for him. Maybe I was stupid about it at first – maybe he’s right, and I should have talked to him a lot sooner – but no matter how much I screwed up along the way, I never gave up on trying to become the kind of person I thought he deserved as a friend.

            It’s the only thing I’m proud of, besides my pictures and my awesome hair. I could have stayed nothing. I could have stayed alone and miserable and so scared of rejection that I never made a single friend or really loved a single person. Instead I got up, went running, ate salads and all sorts of shit that I hated and said hello to people when I didn’t even want them to _look_ at me. I joined the photography club at school and woke up in a panic every night for a week before the first meeting, drenched in a cold sweat from the nightmare prospect of having to talk to people. I smiled at girls who looked at me as I got taller and thinner, pretending like I had a clue why they were doing it, still seeing my old self in the mirror every day until the pictures couldn’t be lying, anymore.

            I may be some little freak from an enemy state with a mystery barcode tattooed on his wrist, but I can be pretty damn loyal to a cause when I want to.

            And now here I am, holding the 114th King of Lucis in a motel bed in Longwythe – only I found out a long time ago that he’s really just Noct, and that he needed a friend just as badly as I did. I push his hair back from his face, stroke the backs of my fingers along his jaw and guide his face up from where he’s nuzzled in against my collarbones.  

            “Psst. Hey. You in there?”

            “Nnng.” Noct shifts just a little, lets me lift his chin with barely any coaxing. This is one of those little things he loves, and the bones in his face are kind of incredible, all sharp angles under baby soft skin. I brush my thumb over the little freckle on his right cheek, trace his cheekbone up to his temple.

            “I know. I don’t want me to wake you up either.”

            Noct mumbles something – I’m pretty sure it’s “then don’t” – and closes his hand over mine to keep it cupped against his cheek. The fact that he’s not still out cold is amazing in and of itself, and a testament to how late Iggy let us sleep in the first place.

            I tilt his face up a bit more and press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Gotta. It’s noon, dude.”

            “S’wha?”

            “Noon.”

            His eyes fly open. “ _What?_ ”

            “Shhh. Take it easy. Iggy only woke me up a minute ago.” I rub his back so he’ll relax again, slip my hand under his shirt and knead my fingers gently along his spine. “We’re staying here today anyway – he just wants you to eat soon, is all.”

            Noct arches into my hand like a cat, stretches a little and makes a strangled little noise in the back of his throat. “Holy. Shit.”

            “Sore?”

            “Biggest understatement ever.”

            I rub soft circles on the small of his back. “If you’re still really hurting, I can go get Iggy for you. Or an aspirin.” It’s normal to be feeling it after a hard day like yesterday, but it’s also better to be safe than sorry if he’s feeling especially horrible.

            Noct groans in protest, snuggles closer, tucks his head back under my chin kisses the hollow of my throat. “Stay here and keep doing that. Royal decree.”

_Royal decree_. Someday all it will take is those two words, and whatever he just said will literally become the law. Even Gladio and Iggy refuse to take it as a joke when he says it now, which is why he never does around them. I shiver a little, tip my own chin up a bit to let him nuzzle in. “Okay, cool. But you still can’t go back to sleep.”

            “Wasn’t planning on it.” His lips brush my throat with every word, and that tiny little sensation shoots all the way down to my toes somehow. “I kinda owe you for last night.”

            “You don’t owe me shit,” I assure him, but I can’t help but stretch into the touch, relax as his hand settles warm and gentle just above my hip. “I always got your back.”

            “Well, then I kinda wanna thank you for last night.” Noct kisses his way up to my chin, then scoots up and brings his face level with mine. “You gotta be pretty sore, too. If you’re not up for it now, I’ll write you an I.O.U.”

            I snort. “Imagine Iggy finding that one in my pocket when he does laundry.” Iggy’s never said a word about it, but he probably knows more about how our relationship works than we do, could probably put better words to what we are and what we mean to each other than we could ever find. We’ve never bothered to talk about it because it’s never needed talking about. I kiss him again, settle closer on the pillow. “Just go easy on me, okay?”

            “Like I can go anything but easy right now.” Noct brushes my hair back, trails his fingers from my collarbones all the way down to my stomach and keeps going, his touch feather light through my clothes, then a little more solid. “But let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

            “So far, so good,” I breathe, and catch him in another kiss as his hand slides back up, under my tee shirt, the best balm for all these sore muscles that I could ask for. If this was Cindy – if this was pretty much any girl – I would probably explode and die and be in heaven before I even knew what happened to me. Because it’s Noct I can just breathe, relax, let go of yesterday’s stress and all the tension in muscles that I thought were already relaxed.

            His hand is on my back now, fingers smoothing along my spine, and I get the impression that he’s doing what I did earlier, feeling for the traces of all those broken bones we had last night. “Did I hear Iggy say a rock face fell on you, or did I dream that?”

            “Yeah, I guess. Don’t really remember – something blew up, rocks landed on us.” It’s my turn to arch into his hand. “Once we turned out to be not dead I kind of forgot about it.”

            “You are not allowed to die on me either, you know.” His voice is soft, gentler than most people probably imagine it can be. “Royal decree.”

            “Wow. That’s two in one morning.” My breath catches in my throat as his fingers reach the base of my spine, dip under my waistband and slide over my hip to thumb the hollow of it. “Might be a new record for you.”

            Noct nuzzles his way back under my jaw. “Don’t tell Iggy or Gladio.” The words against my throat are almost as good as a kiss. “They have to actually take me seriously about that, even when I’m kidding. It’s their job.”

            “Hey. Crownsguard, remember?” I card my fingers through his hair as he kisses his way down my throat, words hitching a little when he hits just the right spot. “It’s my job, too.”

            “Yeah, well, I hereby order you to never take royal decrees seriously, unless I actually say ‘seriously’. Royal Decree. Seriously.”

            It would be way too cheesy to make a ‘your Highness’ joke right now, and I’m a little too distracted to think up something clever, so I laugh and kiss his hair. “Ignore future king’s bullshit. Got it.”

            “Good.” Noct shifts a little, adjusts his shoulder for a better angle and slides his hand flat down my stomach, and down more, and his fingers are so _warm—_

            I let myself melt into the bed, melt into him and just enjoy this. We are all some degree of uncomfortable pretty much all the time out here – too hot, too cold, exhausted or sore or getting chewed up by bugs. Back home this was just fun, something for lazy afternoons, shitty weather, something to do when the arcade was closed or when we just needed to relax. Out here these moments are golden, something that feels really _good_ for once, completely outside our usual spectrum of mild discomfort to outright pain. I can’t even feel all the sore joints and strained muscles anymore. I don’t really care about saving the world right now.

            Neither does Noct, who is super good at this, and who I think finds the same sort of weird satisfaction in that as I do. We may be social shipwrecks with a million and one emotional hang-ups between us, but somehow we’ve found this space with each other where we’re both actually _comfortable_ , and all of that shit stops getting in the way for once. He knows exactly what I like and what I don’t, has always left my right wrist alone without ever having to be told, makes it so easy to just turn my brain off for a while and relax. I pull him back up to me for another kiss as that slow, sweet burn starts to build deep in my stomach.

            “This is a _really_ good thank you.” I breathe.

            “No shit? I feel like my hand is made of cement. This cannot be my best work.”

            “Yeah, no, this is—“ The word breaks in my throat with a shudder, and I have to bite down hard on my own lip to shut myself up and keep this all at motel volume. “Fuck, Noct, I’m—this is _perfect_ —“

            He’s got this way of kissing me without really kissing me, never completely closing on it, just this sweet, lingering closeness that is all shared breath and soft brushes of contact. “Go on,” he whispers. “I got you.”

            It’s a whole body experience, scalp to toes, and I have to close my mouth over his to keep quiet through it. My vision flashes white behind my own eyelids, a warm glow that mirrors the one in my bones, and for a moment all there is in the world is him and me and the warm, close universe that is our hotel bed. I kiss him until the last of the aftershocks let up, and my heart starts to slow back down to it’s normal rhythm.

            “Definitely showers before breakfast,” Noct muses out loud as he makes a half-assed attempt to clean us up without moving much, and I drift in the afterglow.

            “That’s not even a question.” We rinsed the mud off ourselves last night, but that doesn’t mean we were actually clean even before we started messing around. “Besides, you’re getting thanked too, once I can actually move again.”

            “Sweet. I like gratitude.”

            “Is that what all the cool kids are calling it, these days?”

            “Guess so, now that I said it.” Noct snuggles right up to me, nose to nose and smiling a little.

            I kiss him again, slow and lazy, slide a knee between his and get a little shiver out of him. He’s already warmed up and ready for this, sucking in a deep breath through his nose and rolling his hips for friction against my leg.

“If anything hurts, tell me.”

            “Will do.” Noct’s voice is a ghost of it’s usual self, the bottom dropped straight out of it, totally unconcerned about me hitting any sore spots. I am never anything but gentle with him, and there is never any rush to this for either of us – these quiet moments have their own rhythm that we both know by heart now, and all we have to do is relax into that for things to go the way we both like.

            “Lie back,” I tell him, and really shift around for the first time this morning, work my arm out from under his shoulder and shift my weight over him a bit. “I got a really good plan.”

            “What happened to taking it easy?” But he’s rolling his shoulders flat against the mattress, settling in and letting me kiss my way down the side of his neck while I try to work the rust out of my joints.

            “Don’t worry. Still gonna be easy for you.” I scoot down a little, nuzzle against his collarbones and tug the collar of his tee shirt down enough to kiss them. “Just gimme a minute to work my way down, here.” The arm I just worked free is all pins and needles, and it isn’t going to hold me up just yet. Instead I just snuggle into his side, spread my hand flat on his stomach and slide it up, pushing his tee shirt out of my way for now.

            “Oh shit.” Noct sucks in his breath, catching on. “That’s ambitious. You sure you’re up to it?”

            “No idea, but I’m sure as hell gonna give it a shot.” Because he loves it, and I love him, and this rare and precious morning off from the grind feels like it calls for something a little out of the ordinary. He’s already breathing a little faster in anticipation, squirming a little when I stroke my hand down his stomach and toy with the waistband of his sweats. “Help me out, here,” I coax, curling my fingers under the elastic, and he rolls his hips up obligingly so I can tug them down enough to touch him in earnest.

            Noct makes this amazing little noise in the back of his throat, this half-whimper that I love getting out of him because he’s so quiet in general. I could finish him off in a minute or two like this, and I have to be careful not to ruin my own plan. I take a deep breath and get my arm under me, push my on my elbow to kiss my way down his stomach.

            My whole body twinges in protest, joints stiff and muscles uncooperative, but I want to take my time with this for his sake. I make it just below his navel before my shoulder shakes, wobbles, and I have to give up. I end up on my side with my head resting on his hip and my hand wrapped loose around him, laughing under my breath. “Shit. Okay, hang on – I swear I got this…”

            Noct is laughing a little too, and his hand comes up through my hair, warm and gentle. “You seriously don’t have to do this. You have hands. _I_ have hands.”

            “No way. You’re gonna be glad I’m so stubborn in just a second, here.” The truth is that this is fun – staying in bed, fooling around, knowing that we’ve got nowhere to go except to the diner today. It’s the closest things have felt to our old version of normal in a long time, and it’s worth all the extra effort to make the most of it. I nuzzle into the hollow of his hip and get a gasp out of him, get my arm back under me at a more stable angle, and get to work.

            I’m pretty sure that I’m good at this, or at least as good as I’ll ever need to be. I’ve never done it for anyone else and never plan to, but I’ve got what he likes down to a science, and I’m so used to the way that his body responds that there’s never any question about whether I’m getting it right. I trace the grooves of his hips with my fingertips, pet his stomach to keep him relaxed - I want him to enjoy this, but I don’t want him getting too wound up while he’s still healing from all that healing.

            One of his hands winds my hair - not pushing or pulling, just combing through it with shaking fingers – and the other reaches for mine, a sure sign he’s getting close. I didn’t expect this to take long at all, but I slow up a little, pull off him for a moment to kiss the angle of one hipbone and the back of the hand holding mine.

            “See? Told you I could do this.”

            “Fucking hell,” Noct breathes. “You sure can.”

            “I’m not gonna stop,” I warn him. “So don’t bother with a heads up. I can tell when you’re close, anyway.”

            Noct lets his head roll to the side with a little groan; dirty talk is not in our vocabulary, but sometimes blatant honesty has the same side effect. “ _Fuck,_ Prom…”

            I grin, push my hair back out of my eyes and find my rhythm again, squeezing his hand as a bone-deep shiver runs through him. I’ll need time to hold him for a while after this, get him calm again and put back together before we get up and attempt to shower, but it’s worth it to feel how deeply he’s breathing, feel his toes curl and his back arch with the simple human pleasure of it.

            I wasn’t lying – I can feel when he’s close, and I’m ready, relax as he tenses up and soothe him through it, stroking the spasming muscles in his abdomen until it’s over and he’s a puddle of liquid Noct on the mattress.

            I crawl back up to his level and gather him in against me; he’s shaking, but more relaxed than he’s been in ages, and eager to cuddle in close. This is a big part of why we do this together in the first place – the close, quiet moments after when we’re melted into the bed and each other and real life stands still while we catch our breath. I stroke his hair as he resolidifies, tuck the blankets back around us.

            “Do _not_ go back to sleep,” I warn him. “We still have to shower and eat and all that crap.”

            “Okay,” says Noct, way too agreeable.

            “ _Noct._ No.”

            “Five minutes.”

            “No minutes.” I pat his hip, gently enough to go easy on his sore joints but smartly enough that he can’t ignore me. “Eyes open, dude.”

            Noct blinks a few times and tries to glare at me, but his eyes are so sated and content that he doesn’t even come close to pulling it off. I smile, and he gives up and smiles too. “I seriously have no idea how you did that. My neck hurt _for_ you.”

            “Wasn’t too bad, once I got going.” I kiss his forehead, roll my shoulders a little and try to gear myself up to actually stand in a minute. “Getting out of bed is gonna be way worse.”

            Noct groans a little, stretches against me and drags a hand down his face. “Not looking forward to that.”

            “Me either, but we can’t keep the guys waiting forever. Besides, it’s supposed to rain later.”

            “Rain…? Wait, we _are_ in Longwythe, right?”

            “Yup. Sure are. Iggy said the storm that pissed on us all day yesterday might actually hit here today. Gonna be all historic and stuff.”

            Noct snorts. “History. Great. Think I’m gonna take a nap.”

            “I’m pretty sure that’s kind of the plan.” I move a few strands of hair out of his face in a reprise of Iggy’s earlier gesture. “Take the day off, heal up the normal way, give you a break from all the crackly blue magic stuff. How’s your stomach, anyway?”

            Noct messes with my hair right back, fixing pieces that are probably sticking out at all sorts of stupid angles by now. “Not too weird, so far. Guess I’ll find out for sure when I stand up.”

            “You ready to give that a shot?”

            “Ugh. What happens if I say no?”

            “You gotta do it anyway.”

            “Fine.” He presses his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. “You first. Royal decree.”

            “Aw man, seriously?”

            “Seriously.”

            Our predictions were right. Getting up is not fun – I’m not quite as sore as I expected to be, but I’m still _tired_ , too raw for the outside world and not quite ready to be out from under the blankets. Still, my knees are steady and solid again, and the fuzzy, far-away feeling in my head is gone now.

            “Wish we could just order a pizza,” Noct muses as I help him to the bathroom. He is a little less steady on his feet than I am, blinking hard against the white spots in his vision and favoring his bad knee enough to qualify as a limp this morning. “This whole moving thing sucks.”

            “Do they even _have_ pizza out here? I haven’t seen a single shop since we left Insomnia.”

            Noct shrugs. “Somewhere has to deliver _something._ I’d take anything I can wait in bed for right about now.”

            “You’ve been up for like thirty seconds,” I point out. “Give it a chance – get clean, get some food – and I guarantee we’ll start feeling more human.”

            Showering helps. Back home we shared his apartment bathroom all the time on school mornings, dodging around one another with ease and doubling up on the shower if we were running late. The bathroom of the Three Zs are the same chipped blue as the rooms, with cracked tiles running halfway up the walls and barely enough space for one person to maneuver. We have to take turns at everything, banging our elbows on stuff and helping each other balance until we finally stumble out, clean and respectable and limp around the edges from all the steam.

            It’s a dark day in Longwythe, big grey clouds rolling in off the highlands and blotting out the sun, but it still seems too bright out when we finally emerge from the hotel room. Noct shields his eyes with his gloved hand and groans, leaning on the doorframe as I slide past him into the light.

            “Well, well.” Iggy is kicked back at a porch table with Gladio, eyeing us over a brand new cooking magazine. “They’re alive.”

            “It’s all an act,” Noct assures him.

            Gladio smirks. “Thought I was gonna have to drag your corpses out here myself.”

            And it really is just a joke this morning. There is no stab in the gut, no shock back to that moment when a red giant nearly killed my best friend. I may never really know what I’m doing, but at least I know what let go of and what to hold onto in the end.

            I squeeze Noct’s shoulder, steer him out onto the porch and shut the door behind us. “Nope, we got it. Walking dead, reporting for duty.” So we almost died last night. No big deal. “Anyone wanna hit up the Crow’s Nest?”


End file.
